Scandal With a Prince (29 page)

“Thanks for coming down on a Sunday, Megan,” Ramon said, striding across his office to close the door behind her.
 
“I’d like you to meet Jack Gladwell.”

The British billionaire’s light blue eyes danced with amusement as he approached her.
 
He clasped Megan’s hand in both of his and raised one eyebrow.
 
“You changed clothes, didn’t you?”

“I did,” she admitted.
 
“I couldn’t bring myself to enter Ramon’s office in an old sundress and flip flops.
 
I hope you weren’t waiting long.”

“Not at all.”
 
He released her hand and gestured for her to take one of the two empty seats in front of Ramon’s desk.
 
Once she did, he took the other and turned it to face her.
 
“I’ll get right to the point, Megan.
 
I have both good news and bad news to share with you.”

Megan glanced at Ramon, who’d moved to stand behind Jack Gladwell, but he didn’t appear concerned.
 
In fact, he seemed to be holding back a smile.

“First, I’m afraid that Ramon will be leaving his position as manager of the Grandspire at the end of the summer,” Jack said.
 
“He’s done excellent work here and I like to reward those who look after my financial interests.
 
Therefore, I’ve asked him to join me in London, where he’ll oversee my entire hotel business.”

“That’s terrific, though he’ll be greatly missed here,” she said.
 
Ramon had worked hard with little credit to rebuild the Grandspire.
 
The promotion was well-earned.
 
“Having worked with him here the last few years, I can assure you that you’ll be thrilled with your decision.”

“I already am,” Jack replied.
 
“It’s an entirely new position, created to ensure a consistently high level of quality across all twelve of my worldwide hotel properties.
 
If anyone can keep a tight rein on such diverse locations, I believe it’s Ramon.”

She agreed.
 
So why had she been called down?
 

Then the realization hit her:
 
Jack Gladwell was restructuring his entire hotel division.
 
She was going to be let go before she had the opportunity to leave on her own.
 
She glanced to Ramon, then back to Jack once more, hoping her face didn’t betray her emotions.
 
“If that’s the good news, what’s the bad news?”

“That
is
the bad news, as it means I no longer have a manager at what has become my premier hotel property.
 
Given the success of the Grandspire’s revitalization, I’m quite particular about who will take Ramon’s place.
 
It’s money in my pocket if I choose the right person and a great loss if I don’t.
 
Besides, it’d be a damned shame to see all Ramon’s hard work go to waste.
 
Don’t you agree?”

“Of course.”
 
She smiled at Ramon.
 
“We’ve learned a lot from him here.”

“That’s what I thought.”
 
He leaned forward, placing his elbows on his knees to look her in the eye.
 
“Which is why I want you to take over the Grandspire, Megan.
 
Are you up to the challenge?”

Megan’s jaw felt as if it’d frozen shut.
 
Jack Gladwell, one of the wealthiest, most powerful men in the world, had traveled to Spain to personally offer her a job running his highest-profile hotel?
 
He hardly knew her.
 

He must have known what was going through her mind because he explained, “I realize that this comes from out of the blue, but Ramon has kept me apprised of your work here the last few years.
 
I’ve looked over your reports as well as your conference bookings.
 
You’re astute when it comes to bringing in business and anticipating customer needs, and your staff adores you despite the fact you drive them hard.
 
Ramon is confident you’re the best choice for the position, as am I.”

His praise made it difficult to find her voice.
 
“I’m honored.”

“So you’ll take the job?”

No wonder Jack Gladwell was a billionaire.
 
He spoke with the confidence of a man who always got what he wanted.
 
“Do you need a decision today?”

The grin that spread over his tanned face surprised her.
 
“Now that’s the kind of response I’d hoped to hear.”
 
He turned to Ramon and said, “You told me she was smart.”

At Ramon’s shrug, Jack faced Megan again and said, “I like that you don’t allow yourself to be railroaded into a quick decision.”

“I wasn’t aware I was being railroaded,” she replied.
 
Though of course she was.

“Let me know by Friday.”
 
He picked up a manila file folder from Ramon’s desk and offered it to her.
 
“This is a summary of your compensation package.
 
I won’t negotiate beyond this, so don’t bother asking.
 
You’ll find it more than generous.
 
In return, I expect you to remain as dedicated to the Grandspire as you have been since Ramon hired you.
 
More so, if possible.
 
I need people like you in my organization, Megan.”

She accepted the folder without opening it.
 
“Thank you, Mr. Gladwell.”

He clapped his hands on his knees, then stood.
 
“Call me Jack.
 
And call me by Friday.”

Chapter Twenty-One

Megan kept the folder closed as she took the mezzanine stairs from Ramon’s office down to the lobby.
 
A month ago, every fiber of her being would’ve been overcome with the urge to whip open the folder and peruse its contents.
 
An offer like Gladwell’s was what she’d been working toward her whole life.
 
Whatever the folder contained, it would mean security for her and Anna.
 
She knew what Ramon’s compensation had been as manager.
 
She doubted Gladwell would offer her any less, especially given that she’d been with the Grandspire for several years already.
 
She’d be able to sock away enough to cover Anna’s college tuition without worrying about meeting her other expenses.
 
Perhaps she could even afford to fly her parents here once in a while, rather than having them absorb the cost.
 
But as wonderful as the financial security might be, the position itself meant more.
 
She’d have the power to shape the Grandspire for years to come, she’d have Jack Gladwell’s ear, and she’d have the ability to move to any job she wanted in the future.

It was a dream come true.

However, it would mean saying no to Stefano, which meant trading one dream for another.
 
No matter what she did, the price would be steep.

She forced a smile as she approached an animated-looking group assembled near the bottom of the stairs, most of whom were studying city maps as they waited for the bus driver to pull around to the entry for the hotel’s regular Sunday afternoon shopping tour.
 
After giving one woman directions to the nearest restroom and promising that the bus would wait, Megan checked her watch.
 
Still plenty of time before Stefano’s driver arrived.
 
As she passed the registration desk on her way to the main bank of elevators, she caught a glimpse of Cristina speaking to a guest.

“Shoot,” Megan mumbled to herself, remembering that she’d promised to call Santi.
 
She’d see what he needed after Stefano went to the airport.
 
For what was normally her quietest day of the week, this Sunday was turning out to be quite eventful.
 

She exhaled, her mind racing a mile a minute as she traversed the spacious lobby.
 
She couldn’t tell Stefano about the job offer, not yet.
 
She needed to contemplate it with no outside influence, even—perhaps especially—without Stefano’s influence.
 
He’d asked far too many questions about her job hunt already.
 
She clutched the folder a little tighter.
 
Perhaps the offer from Gladwell was the universe’s way of stopping her from making a mistake, marrying a man who didn’t love her back.

She punched the elevator button harder than necessary, frustrated with herself for allowing doubt to creep in where it shouldn’t.
 
Half an hour ago, she’d been ready to accept Stefano’s proposal.
 
When she saw Stefano, her gut would tell her what to do.
 

Hell, she knew without seeing him again what she’d do.
 

A long Saturday spent walking La Rambla and enjoying the Magic Fountain with Anna showed her that Stefano was everything she’d believed when they’d first met in Venezuela.
 
She loved that man—self-assured, witty, caring, and, yes, sexy as all get-out—whether or not he wore a crown or lived in a royal palace.
 
Being a royal was his circumstance, not his character.
 
Circumstances could be adjusted, or you could adjust to the circumstances.
 
But character didn’t change.
 
The weekends that followed their day on La Rambla only cemented her belief.

The rest will fall into place.

The lights over the doors ticked off the floors as an elevator approached.
 
She’d never seen the numbers change so slowly.
 
She needed to see Stefano, and she needed to see him
now
.
 

As she reached out to hit the button again, a beefy hand came to rest on her forearm.
 
“Megan.”

She turned to see a familiar face.
 
“Santi.
 
I was just about to call you.”
 
If “just about” meant a solid hour from now, after Stefano left for the airport.

“I have looked everywhere for you.”
 
The heavily-accented voice was hushed, breathless.
 
She started at the rapid rise and fall of his chest.
 
The man who never ran anywhere had apparently chased her across the lobby.

“What’s wrong?”
 
He appeared on the verge of collapse.

A family approached as the elevator doors opened to spill another large group into the lobby.
 
Santi waved for the family to go ahead and take the free elevator, apparently needing to speak with her in private.
 

Once the crowd cleared, Megan said, “Now you’re worrying me.
 
The last time I saw you this serious, you had a banquet to serve and half your staff ill.”

“This is worse.
 
This is about you.”
 
His eyebrows puckered in concern.
 
“Have you heard any…any news today?”

“News?”
 
Had he somehow learned that she was being offered the manager’s position?
 
If so, why would he consider that to be bad news?
 
“I don’t think so.”

He puffed out a breath through his nostrils.
 
“Come with me.”

Could no one tell her anything straight today?
 
“Can it hold for an hour or so?
 
I have someone waiting for me upstairs.”

Stating that she had a guest in her suite only seemed to increase his agitation level.
 
“I will be quick.
 
Please, we should talk in my office.”
 

He led her through a service door to the back hallway that connected the banquet rooms to the kitchen.
 
Once in his domain, he wound his way through the cooking area at lightning speed, then past rows of stainless steel shelving and the hotel’s two commercial dishwashers to his closet-sized office in the very back of the kitchen.
 
Though small, the space was neat.
 
Menus and order forms occupied bulletin boards on the walls.
 
An apron hung on a corner rack and a photo of Santi’s wife and children stood in a place of honor on his utilitarian desk.
 
He opened the desk drawer and withdrew a page ripped from a newspaper, then held it out to her. “This was in yesterday’s edition of
Última Celebridad
.
 
Have you seen it?”

She took the clipping and scanned the article that dominated the top of the page.
 
Her Spanish was far from perfect, but she gathered that it was an account of local soccer stars who’d engaged in a bar brawl after losing an important game to Real Madrid.
 
The fight happened nearly a mile from the hotel.
 
She quirked her mouth at Santi.
 
“I don’t get it.
 
Were some of our employees involved?”

“No, no…not the article.
 
The photo below it.”

Her eye moved past the soccer news to the bottom of the page.
 
There, in black and white, was a hazy photo of her sitting cross-legged on the grass with Anna’s head in her lap.
 
Beside her, Stefano was pulling off his sunglasses and smiling at her.
 
It had been taken almost two months ago, the night they’d visited the Magic Fountain.
 
She couldn’t prevent her sharp intake of breath when she saw the caption.
 
Roughly translated, it read:
 
Royal in Disguise! Secret Girlfriend Has Child!